


peel off our skin we're gonna burn what we were to the ground

by Cunninglinguist



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019), True History of the Kelly Gang (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, BDSM Undertones, Bodily Fluids, But only a little, Choking, Comeplay, Derogatory Language, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Established Relationship, Established Tom Blake/William Schofield, Face Slapping, Face-Sitting, Facials, Feral Behavior, Graphic Description, Gratuitous Descriptions of Ned Kelly's Body, Jealousy, Kissing, Knifeplay, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-World War I, Power Dynamics, Rimming, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spit Kink, Threesome - M/M/M, self-indulgent fuckery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23954098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cunninglinguist/pseuds/Cunninglinguist
Summary: “Come on, Blake.” Schofield stands and lays a possessive hand on Tom’s shoulder. “We’re leaving.”“Or,” murmurs Kelly, breath hot on Tom’s ear, lips so close a shiver dances up his spine, “I could take you back to mine and show you what it’s like to get fucked by a real man.”Tomwhimpers.He can’t help it--the noise is torn from his throat before he has the wherewithal to try and suppress it. Horrified, he freezes, acutely aware of the twin stares scorching him to the soul.“You…” Schofield swallows, brow furrowing. “He...that appeals to you?”“No, God, no, I--”“Well you ought to come, too,” says Kelly, and Tom barely manages to quash a second embarrassing outburst as he feels Kelly rest his hand on top of Schofield’s on his shoulder. “Make things interesting for your boy here.”Alternatively: Tom and Will run into someone from Will's past. Things devolve rapidly.
Relationships: Ned Kelly/Tom Blake, Ned Kelly/Tom Blake/William Schofield, Ned Kelly/William Schofield, Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 35
Kudos: 103





	peel off our skin we're gonna burn what we were to the ground

**Author's Note:**

> this one goes out to the dark second devons.
> 
> please read the warnings--if this is not your jam, do not read it. 
> 
> fic title from [sunspots](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MWmoco8XqPA) by nine inch nails.

“Oh, no.” Schofield’s spine goes ramrod-stiff and his jaw clenches. 

Tom stops speaking mid-sentence, raising an eyebrow at his partner’s change in demeanour. “What? What is it?”

Shaking his head, Schofield takes a sip from his pint. “Nothing. Sorry. What were you saying?”

“Right. Anyway. So, like I was saying, Joe was nearly through pitting all the cherries, every last bloody one, when out of nowhere, Myrtle--” Tom narrows his eyes. Schofield hasn’t relaxed one bit. His eyes are sharp and focused, like he’s lining up his sights, and he isn’t paying a lick of attention to Tom or his, if he does say so himself, quite hilarious and charming story. Highly unusual. Tom looks over his shoulder in an attempt to find out who’s got their hooks in his distracted partner, unable to see beyond a sea of meaningless faces, or to hear over the low roar of meaningless chatter. 

When he turns back around, he’s met with a sheepish Schofield, cheeks a faint shade of pink in the dim bar lighting. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “Please, continue.”

“Not until you tell me what you’re looking at.”

“No one. Nothing. Just thought I saw—“ 

“Well well well, if it isn’t Private fucking Schofield.” A mocking voice in an accent that Tom hasn’t heard since his time in France transcends the pub’s low din. Tom whirls around to face the speaker, and his jaw drops. 

Standing beside him is, hands down, one of the most astonishingly handsome men he’s ever seen in his life. He’s _tall,_ all long, _long_ legs poured into trousers that fit him like a glove, messy, too-long hair, and exquisite bone structure. He’s got a jaw that could cut glass and eyes that could cut the heart from a man’s chest.

Smirking at Schofield, the stranger approaches the table and slams his tumbler of whisky down like it’s offended him. 

Schofield’s eyes darken. _“Kelly.”_

“Actually,” says Tom, louder than he’d intended, “it’s _Sergeant Major_ Schofield, but--”

The stranger pins Tom in place with an ice-blue stare. “And who might this be? Is this your little boyfriend?”

Shocked, Tom’s tongue trips over a thousand sputtering excuses, but Schofield just hisses, “For heaven’s sake, keep your voice down, Kelly.”

 _Wait._ This man, this _Kelly_...the way he’s talking, he must _know,_ which means that...more likely than not, he’s just the same as they are. Tom’s face floods with inexplicable heat as his eyes dart surreptitiously between them. They’re oddly similar, to the point that one could absolutely be related to the other: the strong jaws and narrow noses, the height, the similar hair and eye color. Hell, even their bodies look similar, not that Tom is looking—

“What the hell are you even doing here?” Schofield’s _furious,_ but there’s something else, something inscrutable in his expression that makes Tom’s gut tense. “You’re not on the bloody lam, are you?”

“Fuck you.” Kelly’s upper lip curls as his intense gaze returns to Tom. “Suppose I won’t be getting a proper introduction any time soon. Very fucking rude, Schofield, but it’s no trouble. I’ll do it myself.” 

Incredulous, Tom watches as Kelly insinuates his long, lean body into the booth beside him, scooting over compulsively until his shoulder is flush with the wall. Kelly moves in until he is quite literally pressed against Tom, and _Christ,_ Tom can feel the hard muscles of his thigh against his own. Kelly turns in such a way that necessitates a casual arm thrown across the banquette behind Tom’s shoulders and extends a hand. “Hello, beautiful. Lieutenant Edward Kelly, formerly of the Australian Second. Most call me Ned, but you can call me whatever you like.”

_Oh._

“I’m T-Tom. Tom Blake.” Tom has to squeeze his legs together as _Lieutenant Kelly’s_ enormous hand engulfs his own in a handshake that jostles his entire body.

“Lovely to meet you, Tom Blake.” Kelly’s other hand dangles just low enough to graze Tom’s shoulder, making every hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He leers at Schofield, who’s looking back at him like he’s got just barely enough restraint to stop himself from flipping the table and strangling him with his bare hands. “How long have you two been together, hmm?”

“None of your bloody business,” says Schofield as Tom says, a bit dazed, “about a year now.”

“A year!” Kelly raises his glass. “Good for you, Schofield, good for you. Since Tom here doesn’t seem to know who I am, I’m--”

“I know Kelly from the Somme.” The volume of Schofield’s voice betrays his panic. “He was one of the commanding officers. He—”

“Blah, blah, blah. Schofield and I used to fuck.” Kelly sips his drink nonchalantly and raises a lecherous eyebrow. “Not just once, or even twice. Quite a lot. All the time, really.”

Tom’s vision whites out a bit around the edges. He doesn’t know where to look. He hardly knows how to think, as Kelly’s crass words ring in his ears. He should be feeling jealous, perhaps even angry. Under any other circumstances, he’s sure he would, but the image of the two of them, _together…_

He can tell, even through layers and layers of clothing, that Kelly is bloody _built,_ and he’s seen Schofield’s body enough to know just how gorgeously muscular he is. The thought of those perfect bodies intertwined, sliding against one another through sweat, pretty kiss-swollen lips parted, chests heaving with effort as they _fuck_...it’s all a bit too much for Tom to bear, especially in a public place. . 

“Oh, dear. Did I break him?” Kelly waves a hand in front of Tom’s face. Schofield’s on his feet in an instant, slamming Kelly’s wrist down on the table. 

“Fuck off, Kelly,” he snarls in a tone that Tom has rarely, if ever, heard him use before. “You leave him alone. You leave us alone.” 

“Good to see you’re still no fucking fun.” Kelly wrenches his hand free. “So, Tom Blake. What the hell is a pretty thing like you doing with this boring sod, hmm?” 

“He’s not boring,” says Tom lamely, only half-present. If he’s honest, he’s still grappling with the idea of Schofield, his beautiful, gentle, soft-spoken Schofield, and this rough, forward, gorgeous man, this _Kelly._

The two of them. _Together._

His feverish brain oscillates between visions of Schofield on all fours, mouth hanging open in ecstasy as Kelly pushes into him from behind, and Schofield on his back, lap full of Kelly, two pairs of equally blue eyes ignited with lust as Kelly rolls his hips. _God,_ Schofield would arch into him with a shameless moan, eyelids fluttering, he _loves_ to be ridden--

“Not terribly convincing.” Kelly gives Tom a long, calculating look. “Careful, Schofield, if you don’t make things interesting right quick, this one might realize he’s out of your league sooner than you think.”

“I don’t have to listen to this.” Schofield’s jaw juts out, and there’s a defiance there that Tom hasn’t seen on his face since back in France.

“I thought you loved hearing me talk.” 

Schofield scoffs. “I rather preferred shutting you up.”

“There we are.” There’s victory in Kelly’s grin, like he’s won some game Tom doesn’t know about.

“Come on, Blake.” Schofield stands and lays a possessive hand on Tom’s shoulder. “We’re leaving.” 

“Or,” murmurs Kelly, breath hot on Tom’s ear, lips so close a shiver dances up his spine, “I could take you back to mine and show you what it’s like to get fucked by a real man.”

Tom _whimpers._ He can’t help it--the noise is torn from his throat before he has the wherewithal to try and suppress it. Horrified, he freezes, acutely aware of the twin stares scorching him to the soul. 

“You…” Schofield swallows, brow furrowing. “He...that appeals to you?”

“No, God, no, I--”

“Well you ought to come, too,” says Kelly, and Tom barely manages to quash a second embarrassing outburst as he feels Kelly rest his hand on top of Schofield’s on his shoulder. “Make things interesting for your boy here.”

Tom bites down on his lip. He loves Schofield, and he loves what they have together, but the thought of being with the both of them, watching them, _submitting_ to them, makes his toes curl in his shoes and his prick stiffen to the point that it _aches._

Kelly and Schofield are regarding one another with such a charged fervor that it pulls Tom from his lust-drunk reverie. This could go two ways, as far as Tom’s concerned: Schofield could pull his hand away, rebuff Kelly, and take Tom home. This would be perfectly fine, of course, more than perfectly fine. The mere fact that this proposition occured at all will fuel Tom’s more lurid wank fantasies for some time to come.

There is an equal possibility, however, that Schofield might shove Tom out of the way and tackle Kelly to the ground. Most likely to fight, but perhaps to...resolve this tension in another way. This is also very, very fine with Tom. 

Instead, Schofield shocks Tom by leaning down and whispering into his ear, “Well? Would you like that, love? The both of us?”

Before he can examine his incredulity at Schofield’s inclination to even entertain this, Tom nods. “Yes. Yes, I’d like that, if you’d...if you’d also like it.”

“Your pretty lad has spoken.” Kelly drains his drink and grins wolfishly. “You lot are coming with me.”

The walk passes in such a blur that Tom barely clocks the distance between the pub and Kelly’s flat. Kelly and Schofield are speaking in low, heated voices. Tom barely registers what they’re saying, instead choosing to focus on the myriad of scenarios that might await him upon reaching their destination, each one more depraved than the next.

By the time they reach the door, Tom’s practically foaming at the mouth with arousal. Kelly rounds on Tom and Schofield. “Are you certain you want to come inside?”

Tom exchanges a look with Schofield, and he knows the decision is entirely in his hands. Sco could go either way, so long as Tom ultimately decides. Carefully, Tom nods, and Schofield turns to Kelly. “Yes.”

“Soon as we get inside, you are entering my domain.” Kelly holds his keys up emphatically. “You play by my rules, or you can fuck off. Understand?”

This time, Schofield answers without looking at Tom. _“Yes.”_

“Good.”

The moment the door shuts behind them, two mouths are at Tom’s neck, knocking every last bit of sense from him as four eager hands tug at his clothes.

“Anything you want, anything you don’t want,” murmurs Schofield hotly in his ear, “you say the word, love.”

“He’ll be telling you to fuck off in no time.” Kelly slides Tom’s braces unceremoniously from his shoulders. “You two met abroad too, yeah?”

“Yeah,” gasps Tom, heart pounding as Kelly undoes his belt. 

“Thought I’d ruined him for all others.” Kelly slides his belt through the loops and yanks it taut in front of Tom’s face so it snaps, making him jump. “But I can see why someone like you might be an exception.”

“Shut the fuck up, Kelly.” Schofield cups Tom’s face and kisses him deeply, marking his territory. Tom’s holding onto his forearms for dear life, lost in the sensation of Schofield’s lips, usually soft and gentle, now unyielding against his own. 

The moment he’s parted from Schofield, Kelly spins him round, gives him a long, covetous look, and crushes their mouths together. He kisses like he speaks, harsh and powerful, and Tom rumbles a moan into Kelly’s open mouth as their teeth knock together. 

“Hmm.” Kelly licks his lips, savouring, trailing a hand down Tom’s chest, his side, and grabs a handful of his arse. Tom inhales sharply. Kelly smirks, diabolical, and glances at Schofield. “This is going to be fun.”

In a dreamlike fog, Tom allows himself to be maneuvered into Kelly’s bedroom, nearly tripping over various instruments and furniture in the cramped flat, pausing along the way to be slammed against various surfaces and kissed, bitten, and unburdened of select articles of clothing. 

“Knew you’d be gagging for it the moment I saw you,” murmurs Kelly in his ear, long fingers slipping into his waistband to untuck his shirt. He grits his teeth, fists his hands in the offending garment, and rips it from Tom’s body, sending buttons skittering across the floor. 

“Oh, God,” gasps Tom, burying his hands into Kelly’s long hair as his neck is ravaged by two sets of teeth. Schofield is hard behind him, slowly rolling his hips against Tom’s arse, and Kelly’s muscled thigh presses gloriously between his legs where he’s yearning to be touched. 

Suddenly, hot mouths meet on his neck, and Tom opens his eyes just in time to watch Kelly’s lips meet Schofield’s. They’re not kissing as much as they’re consuming one another, jaws working, tongues plunging, teeth clacking. Hypnotized, Tom groans, undulating his hips shamelessly against Kelly’s gorgeous thigh. 

They pull apart, once again rendering Tom almost boneless with twin stares.

“On your knees, love,” says Schofield, face stern as he undoes his belt. 

“You heard him.” Kelly buries a hand in Tom’s hair and yanks, hard enough for him to cry out, before shoving him down. He falls with a thud and a surprised gasp, knees smarting as he looks up, lips parted. 

“Good boy,” sneers Kelly, quickly divesting himself of his jacket and trousers. “You like it a bit rough, don’t you?”

 _Fuck._ “I do,” he murmurs. 

Schofield cradles the back of Tom’s head. “Is this alright?”

Tom nods.

“And you’ll say if it isn’t?”

“Yes!” Tom lets out a harsh exhale. “Stop worrying so much and just get on with it.”

“Alright. I won’t ask again.” Schofield’s lips quirk up in a half smile, and Tom is bowled over by how badly he wants him, how badly he wants this. With a coy glance upward, he crooks his fingers in Schofield’s belt loops and yanks his trousers down around his ankles. 

“This pretty boy’s got a mouth on him, Schofield.” A large, calloused hand slips beneath his chin, drawing his gaze back towards Kelly. His eyes bug out at the sight before him: Kelly’s completely, gloriously, naked. Christ, he truly is one giant muscle, strong and beautiful, abdomen flexing as he lazily fists himself. 

“Open up,” he says, fingers coaxing his lips apart. Tom lets his mouth fall open as wide as it can go, grasping at cut hips as Kelly feeds him his massive cock. “That’s it, fuck, put that smart mouth to use.”

Tom tears up at the intrusion, willing away his gag reflex. Kelly’s only a little bigger than Schofield, but he’s rougher, pulling on Tom’s hair, guiding his mouth on and off of his length like he’s little more than a toy.

It shouldn’t be so exciting, the dull pain in his scalp, thrusts so deep he can feel Kelly in his _throat,_ but the more he is used, the more drool drips down his chin, and the more urgent the arousal pulsing between his legs becomes.

The moment Kelly pulls out with a grunt, another set of hands is on Tom’s face, just a bit gentler, but no less urgent. Schofield barely gives Tom time to catch two heaving breaths before he’s pushing his cock between his lips. Tom looks up at his lover through tear-clotted eyelashes, the throbbing between his legs intensifying at the naked desire on Schofield’s face as he watches his prick slide in and out of Tom’s mouth.

“Use your hand,” commands Kelly, standing close enough to touch Tom, to touch Schofield. With a groan, Tom slides a loose fist around Kelly’s slick length, pumping slowly as he continues to suck on Schofield with abandon. 

“Suck him now.” Schofield’s voice is strained as he eases Tom off, a strand of spit connecting the head of his prick to Tom’s lower lip. With a filthy thrill, Tom lets his drool hit the floor before he acquiesces, opening his mouth for Kelly and simultaneously jerking Schofield. 

Lust stabs through Tom as he alternates between his lovers, drowning in the feel and smell of them, the sound of their laboured breathing. When Kelly pulls Schofield to him for another searing kiss, Tom lets Schofield’s prick slip from his mouth to shamelessly watch their tongues slide together, Schofield’s forearm tightening as he winds his fingers into Kelly’s long hair.

“Oh, fuck, that’s so...fuck, that’s hot,” murmurs Tom, saliva dribbling onto his chest as he palms himself. “I’m...I’m so hard.”

“He’s talking,” says Kelly to Schofield, like Tom’s not in the room. “Do you always let him run his mouth like that?”

Schofield glares at him and yanks Tom to his feet. “Do not speak unless you are spoken to, unless it is to say my name.”

“Or mine.” Kelly’s fingers snake between Tom’s thighs. Tom inhales sharply at the heel of his hand pressing against him, nice at first, then just hard enough to be cruel. “You can also beg, cry, and let out those whorish little noises you keep making. Understand?”

Tom nods. Schofield grips his chin, forcing their eyes to meet. “Kelly just spoke to you. Answer him.”

“I do, yes,” gasps Tom, bolts of heat shooting up his spine as Kelly wraps his palm around him for a long, tight stroke. 

“Good. And if you come before we say--” Kelly _squeezes_. “--you’ll be so, so very fucking sorry.”

 _Oh._ Tom can do little more than nod dumbly, and Schofield captures his parted, swollen lips in a fiery kiss as Kelly’s teeth and tongue attack the sensitive flesh at the base of his neck. The hand on his cock is moving too slow, holding him too tight, but Tom’s rolling his hips, desperate for the contact. 

Just as Tom’s sure he’s about to descend into some kind of pre-orgasmic madness, the touch and the mouths disappear. Blood rushing in his ears, Tom allows himself to be pulled down onto the bed on top of a very naked, very hard Schofield, prick slick with Tom’s saliva.

“Come sit on my face, love,” he says lowly. _Shit._ Tom pushes himself onto all-fours and maneuvers until his knees are bracketing Schofield’s face. As he permits himself a lengthy look at Schofield’s toned body, impatient hands find his hips and pull him down onto Schofield’s mouth. 

“Ah!” His neck arches at the first hot, wet pass of Schofield’s tongue over his opening. 

“Glad to see you haven’t let those talents of yours languish,” says Kelly with a wicked grin, insinuating himself between Schofield’s thighs. Tom can do little more than try to remain sane and conscious as he watches Kelly lick a sensuous path from Schofield’s hip, across his trembling belly, up his chest, pausing to suck a nipple into his mouth. Schofield’s moan vibrates through Tom’s body. He pries Schofield’s hands from Tom’s waist and anchors them to the bed before giving Tom a salacious wink and lowering his head. 

“Oh!” Tom’s mind fizzles at the unparalleled ecstasy of Kelly’s mouth enveloping his prick as Schofield simultaneously tongues him open. “Yes—oh, yes, like that, yes, yes, K-Kelly, Kelly!”

“Hear that?” Kelly smirks, rolls his hips, and Tom’s vision goes hazy at the sight of their cocks rubbing together. “He said my name before yours, Schofield.”

The fog of Tom’s arousal breaks as his chest clenches --he hadn’t thought of that. He hadn’t meant to, hopefully Schofield wouldn’t hold it against him--

Schofield bucks up beneath him, roughly grinding his hips against Kelly’s. Kelly moans, and Schofield frees his hands to grasp Tom’s arse tighter, effectively smothering himself between Tom’s cheeks.

Desire tears through Tom’s low belly like wildfire as Schofield’s tongue wriggles inside him, mouth sloppy and greedy, fingernails piercing his skin like he wants to draw blood. Tom can’t stop the aborted wails that fly from his lips as his eyes flit between the sinful sight of his wet cock pushing into Kelly’s eager mouth and the mind-melting visual of Schofield’s long, lovely legs bracketing Kelly’s hips, the gorgeous muscles in Kelly’s sinewy back rippling as he works to bring pleasure to the both of them. 

“Oh, fuck, _Will,”_ he moans, bouncing on his lover’s stiff tongue, snapping his hips forward with a little too much enthusiasm—

Kelly sputters, gags, pulls off. 

“S-sorry,” tries Tom, hips still moving as he rides Schofield’s face. 

Kelly’s eyes flash as he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “That weren’t very considerate of you.”

“I’m s—”

Kelly slaps him across the face, _hard._ Tom gasps as fluid pulses from his prick onto Schofield’s heaving chest--Schofield, who is merciless beneath him, hands guiding the undulation of Tom’s hips. 

Kelly spares the pearly fluid a heated glance before pressing down on Schofield’s chest with one hand and grabbing Tom’s chin with the other. “You’re gonna pay for that, greedy little slut.”

Schofield stops what he’s doing then, slipping out from beneath him, and Tom can do little more than surrender as four hands pin him to the bed, face down, arse up. Schofield’s holding his wrists, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs, as Kelly hauls his hips back and knees his thighs open.

“Look at you, wet and ready for me.” Large hands knead him apart before a thumb traces his slick rim. “What’s to stop me from taking you right now, just with Schofield’s spit?”

Tom stiffens, but before he can protest, Kelly presses a finger inside of him. It’s too dry, it _burns,_ but fuck, Tom’s toes curl in the sheets--he loves the roughness, the pain...he _loves_ it. 

“So tight.” Kelly slips his finger out to the knuckle, then plunges it back in, eliciting a full-body shudder. “Come on, Schofield, come here.”

Tom cranes his neck to see, vision blurring at the sight of Schofield and Kelly leaning into each other. Instead of kissing, Schofield tips Kelly’s chin up and pushes a thick, obscene strand of spit through his lips and into Kelly’s mouth. 

“Fuck,” groans Tom, hole opening for Kelly’s finger, desperately wanting more of him, deeper. “Oh, fuck.”

“Shh.” Two of Schofield’s fingers force their way into Tom’s mouth, and a split second later, Kelly’s pushing another finger into Tom. He spreads them apart until Tom’s _gaping,_ then leans forward and spits a gob of saliva--his and Schofield’s, together--directly into his body.

Schofield’s fingers obscure Tom’s incoherent babbling, leaving him to do little more than moan brokenly and drool as his muscles stretch around Kelly. 

“This one’s terribly noisy, Schofield.” Kelly’s fingers twist, and Tom’s hands scrabble where Schofield has them pinned to the sheets. “Didn’t know you liked them so mouthy.”

“How would you explain you and me, then?” There’s an authority in Schofield’s voice that Tom has never heard in bed, making his cock gush onto the sheets.

Kelly’s breath hitches. “You do like that, don’t you.” 

Tom’s all but lost now, rocking his hips back to meet Kelly’s fingers, brain melting out of his ears at the banter between his lover and his ex. He’s torn between a raging jealousy at the deep understanding between the two of them, and a seething desire for the both of them, now, any way they’ll take him. 

Fingers twine in his hair and yank, hard, bringing Tom back to reality quickly. Schofield nudges Tom’s chin upwards until their eyes meet. “Good?”

Tom nods. 

“Then open your mouth.”

Tom obeys instantly, and is rewarded with a mouth full of Schofield as Kelly withdraws his fingers and teases his cock over his hole, once, twice--

“Going to fuck him now,” murmurs Kelly, and Tom all but chokes on Schofield’s cock as Kelly keeps his word, slick and inexorable and so wonderfully, painfully thick.

“Fuck, he’s tight.” Kelly grabs his arse hard before giving it a smack. 

“Yes, he is.” Schofield’s fingers sink into Tom’s hair, gently stroking over his scalp before tightening, tugging. He arches his back, relaxes his jaw, yielding until he thinks he might break apart. 

Just when he’s convinced that Kelly’s got to be all in, there can’t possibly be more of him, he pulls out, almost all the way, and snaps his hips forward. Tom sees stars as he lets Schofield fall from his mouth with a strangled cry, collapsing onto his forearms as he’s split open by extra inches.

“Sure you know what you’re doing back there, Neddy?” 

“Ha.” Kelly takes Tom’s new position as an opportunity to push down between his shoulder blades, forcing his face down into the sheets as he rolls his hips languorously. “He’ll be alright, just got to get used to my big cock. Ah, fuck, that’s _right_... you’re not used to such a big cock inside of you, are you, little slut?”

In truth, the difference in size between the two is barely noteworthy--Kelly’s just a bit bigger, a bit thicker, but Tom’s not about to say that--even if he were coherent enough to form the thought. Instead, he whimpers. 

It’s not good enough, so Kelly drives his hips forward until he’s flush with Tom’s arse, and stays there. Fuck, it’s so much, it’s too much, it’s so deep, and Tom’s hands clench in the sheets, fighting the urge to tense up at intrusion. 

An unforgiving hand yanks his hair, nearly giving him whiplash. “I asked you a question, slut.” 

Hips thrust forward once more, and again, and oh God, Kelly’s so deep, he’s _everywhere._ Waves of pleasure-pain wash over Tom as his thighs begin to shake, neglected prick leaking steadily onto the bed. 

“Big,” gasps Tom. “You’re so, so big.”

“Hmm. A bit diplomatic for my tastes, but I’ll take it.” Kelly smacks Tom’s arse once more, harder this time, then snakes a hand between his legs. “Fucking hell, he’s so wet. Is this all for me, slut? Are you going to come already, without permission, just from taking my fat cock in your tight little hole?”

Tom _whimpers,_ head swimming at the lewd words, bucking desperately into Kelly’s hand as a maddening heat swirls in his low belly. 

“Hmm, no. You’re going to have to do much better than that if you want to make him come.” Schofield’s behind Tom now, and there’s that authoritative tone that makes Tom’s insides coil into even tighter knots. “Leave off, Kelly, I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Kelly lets out a curse, and the pressure on his shoulders and the grip on his cock disappear, leaving him empty once more. Tom gulps air, his exhales coming out in little sobs, then Schofield’s manhandling him onto his back with confident, familiar hands. 

The naked lust on Schofield’s face floors Tom: his pupils are blown, and there’s a lovely flush extending from his cheekbones all the way down to his chest. “What a mess you are, love, what a mess you are. And we’ve barely gotten started.”

Tom tries to reach for Schofield, but Kelly’s massive hands grab his forearms and hold them against the bed. He grins at Tom, leaning over him so a bead of his sweat drips onto Tom’s face. With a groan, Tom looks down his body just in time to watch Schofield slicking himself, staring at Tom like a dying man in the desert might stare at an oasis. He swipes his fingers over Tom’s opening, rubbing, teasing two fingertips in and out. 

“Please,” whines Tom, muscles clenching, aching for more, more, _more._ Schofield withdraws his fingers and pushes Tom’s thighs wide with Vaseline-sticky hands. “Please, Will, please.”

“Please what?” 

“Please...touch me.”

“Touch you where?” Schofield runs his hands up the backs of Tom’s thighs, to his knees, straightening his legs. Long fingers wrap around his calves. “Here?”

Tom whines and arches his back. Kelly lets out a breathy chuckle. 

Schofield’s eyes flicker to Kelly, mouth twisting in a sadistic grin. Tom’s lips part--he’s never seen Schofield like this before, and just when he thinks he couldn’t possibly surprise him more, he does.

Just when he thinks he can’t get harder, he does.

Schofield sticks out his tongue, giving Tom’s calf a long, lazy lick, down to his knee. He nibbles the flesh there, then bites down hard. “Is this what you want? Is this how you’d like me to touch you?”

Tom squirms. “God--I can’t take it anymore.”

“Beg for it, love. Beg me for it.” 

Tom writhes against the hands pinning his wrists and digging into his calves. “Fuck off, Will, you know what I want, you know--”

Kelly scoffs indignantly before backhanding him across the face. Tom’s eyes water as strong fingers grip his jaw, pressing into his smarting, hot flesh. “Do better, insolent slut,” he growls, a darkness in his eyes that sends a frisson of fear up Tom’s spine. 

“Fuck,” he whines, a small tear rolling down his face as he stares beseechingly up at Schofield. “Fuck, Will, please, please fuck me. I want your cock, so badly, please, please fuck me.”

“There’s a good boy” coos Kelly, releasing the pressure on Tom’s wrists. “Knew he could beg so pretty, knew he could do it.”

“Yes he does, and it’s all for me. Only for me.” 

Before Tom can register what’s happening, Kelly is straddling him, muscular thighs caging his torso, wet prick sliding against his belly, obscuring his view of Schofield. He bows his head to mouth at Tom’s chest. Time slows to a standstill as Schofield enters Tom, inch by inch, at the same time that Kelly sucks a nipple into his mouth.

“Fuck.” Tom’s eyes roll back in his head, overwhelmed by the familiar feeling of Schofield inside of him, the ache in his hips from being forced too wide, the weight of Kelly on top of him, the lingering pain of the slap. “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, Will, yes, Will, fuck.”

“That’s right,” Schofield pants, grip tightening on Tom’s legs, almost to the point of pain. “I know just what you like, I know just how to fuck you.”

“Yeah, fuck, Sco, fuck. You know just what I like.” Tom clutches desperately at Kelly’s back, fingers sliding through sweat. A rapid succession of gasps burst from his lips as Kelly drops his hips, rubbing his arousal against Tom’s. “Fuck--Will, fuck, Kelly, fuck, you know just how to fuck me.”

“Oh, I know I do.” With a torturous grind of his hips, Kelly presses a little kiss to the corner of Tom’s mouth before lowering his head and biting down on Tom’s nipple. Schofield drives in deep, stroking him perfectly, just right, _just there,_ and the sensations hit him like a falling shell, pulling a long, loud wail from his throat before he seizes up and comes with a surprised gasp all over his stomach and Kelly’s prick.

As he descends from his peak, chest heaving, he’s distinctly aware of the lack of movement from either of his lovers. He blinks up at Kelly, who’s propped himself up on his hands to stare down at him with a curled upper lip and hellfire in his eyes.

_Oh, fuck._

Without breaking eye contact, Kelly reaches a hand between their bodies and smears it through Tom’s release. He holds up three wet fingers, parting them gingerly, so the fluid hangs between them like a spider’s web. He looks over his shoulder, presenting the evidence of Tom’s disobedience to Schofield. “Of course your little slut couldn’t do the one thing he was supposed to do.”

Tom gasps at the feeling of Schofield easing out of his body. His face appears over Kelly’s shoulder. He looks at the fingers, then directly at Tom. Eyes shining with ardor and mischief, he reaches around Kelly’s waist, stroking his sides gently before lightly grabbing his wrist. 

“I’m afraid I have an affinity for troublesome sluts who can’t keep their mouths shut,” he says, before parting his lips and sucking Kelly’s long, come-covered fingers into his mouth. Kelly bites his lower lip as he watches his fingers slide between Schofield’s swollen lips, a viscous rivulet of his desire dripping onto Tom’s stomach.

“Fuck,” whispers Tom, immediately exalting and cursing his lack of self control in equal measure as he once again becomes the focus of two unhinged, ocean-dark stares.

“What are we going to do about this one?” Kelly descends onto all fours, caging Blake beneath him, rubbing his erection against Blake’s softening prick once more before climbing off of him. “Not only has he finished without permission, but he’s flat-out refused to respond to direct questions.”

“Hmm.” Schofield stares down at Tom, still kneeling between his thighs as he gives himself a long pull. “I know I’ve satisfied you, love, and as much as I love seeing you all fucked out and covered in spunk, Kelly and I haven’t finished yet. See the problem?”

Tom nods dumbly, utterly limp against the bed. 

“And since you couldn’t seem to decide on whose cock you liked more, perhaps you should take the both of us, at the same time.” 

Fear prickles at Tom’s spine. He’s _never,_ he hasn’t even considered that amongst his options, how would they ever--

“Furthermore, since you failed to control yourself, I think you’re going to have to come for us, when we say, rather than do all that hard work to keep it at bay. Does that sound a bit more doable for you?”

Tom’s speechless. Schofield props a pillow against the headboard before leaning against it. “If this doesn’t appeal to you, I’m sure Kelly and I can find something else for you to do. Or not do.” 

“Make the decision fast,” whispers Kelly in his ear. “Or we will make it for you.”

A sudden pang of arousal hits Tom right in the gut, and he finds himself unable to stop thinking about taking the both of them at once as he is trapped between their bodies, helpless, completely at their mercy--

“Yes,” he says, cupping his flaccid prick, already salivating anew. “Yes, the both of you. Please.”

“Good,” says Schofield, spreading his legs. Tom moves towards him, but he raises a hand with a soft _ah, ah,_ beckoning to Kelly instead with two commanding fingers. “You, come here. Now.”

“Now there’s the feisty cunt I met in France.” Kelly hurries to slot himself between his legs. Schofield wraps a hand around Kelly’s waist, scooting him forward so he has to part his thighs around Schofield’s torso. 

Tom gazes at them from the end of the bed, brain functioning about as highly as a bowl of scrambled eggs as he gorges himself on the sight of their long, sinewy limbs, beautiful, intertwined, complementing each other perfectly, Schofield’s hand splayed possessively on Kelly’s lower back... 

Then Schofield slicks his fist and wraps it around the both of them. Kelly tips his head back and lets out a wanton moan, sounding the least composed he’s sounded all night. 

“Can I...can I..?” Tom struggles for the words, overcome by a primal desperation as he watches his lover pleasure another man. 

Kelly looks pointedly over his shoulder at Tom with a smirk far too smug for the blush colouring his cheeks. He climbs into Schofield’s lap, grinding their hips together. He looks down and laughs breathily. “Told you I’m fucking bigger than you.”

“Fuck you,” growls Schofield. 

“Been hoping you would,” whispers Kelly, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and plunging his tongue into his mouth. Schofield’s hand flies up to the long hair at the base of Kelly’s neck, eyelids fluttering closed as he tilts his head into the kiss.

His hands slide appreciatively down Kelly’s muscled back to grope at his arse, groaning as Kelly does something that Tom can’t see. Tom lets out a whimper, traitorous cock twitching despite his envy. “Will...Will, I want..can I please..?”

Schofield breaks the kiss first to give him a piteous look. “Can you what, love?”

“I want to come over there,” says Tom, brow furrowed. “Please. Can I?”

“Hmm.” Schofield looks up at Kelly, who’s staring at him like he wants to eat him alive. “What do you think?”

Kelly turns and gives Tom a once-over. “Fuck no. Greedy little slut, came all over himself and wants more before he’s even hard again.”

“He’s got a point,” says Schofield sternly. 

“Please,” tries Tom, itching to touch Schofield, to touch the both of them. “I’ll be...I’ll be good, this time.”

Kelly and Schofield exchange a glance, then Kelly whispers something in Schofield’s ear that makes his eyes sparkle. He looks at Tom and crooks his fingers. “Now you may come here, love.”

Tom obeys in an instant, head empty save the thudding of his rapid pulse in his ears. Schofield’s got his and Kelly’s cocks in one gigantic hand, and Kelly’s looking at him, panting hard, finally unraveling, and the sight of it sparks such arousal in Tom’s belly that he nearly combusts.

“Listen to me, Blake. I want you to straddle me, facing Kelly,” says Schofield, releasing their pricks. “Once you’ve shown you can take me again, we’ll carry on from there. Good?”

“Yeah.” Tom swallows, face burning as he positions himself on his knees, arse practically in Schofield’s face, unable to look directly at Kelly as he braces himself on his shoulders and sits down.

He sucks in a breath through gritted teeth--he’s sore, but the pain quickly gives way to a white-hot, urgent sort of pleasure as Schofield sinks deeper inside of him. Once he’s fully seated, Schofield palms at his limp prick and gently grinds his hips, rubbing slowly, sweetly against that lovely spot inside of him, until he feels himself begin to harden in deft fingers. 

“Pretty boy.” Kelly runs his hands over Tom’s body, breath coming out in heaving pants. “Fuck, he’s gorgeous, such a pretty slut.”

“He’s beautiful.” Schofield presses messy kisses to Tom’s neck. “Fuck, Blake, it feels so good inside you.”

“Is he nice and loose from earlier?” Kelly’s fingers rub insistently at Tom’s rim as Schofield slides into him, languid and delicious. “Fuck, look at that hungry little arse swallowing you back up.”

“Why don’t you try a finger now, Kelly,” says Schofield, nibbling on Tom’s neck as he palms his slowly swelling prick, then lower at his balls. 

Kelly fixes Tom with a dark gaze as he pushes an index finger between his lips. Tom accepts it with a groan, watching Kelly watch him as he fucks his mouth at the same time that Schofield fucks his arse.

“That ought to do it.” Kelly pries his finger from Tom’s lips. Staring shamelessly down at the place where Tom and Schofield’s bodies are joined, he lowers his hand. The stretch of his fingertip alongside Schofield’s prick is searing, pulling a ragged gasp from Tom.

“Oh, fuck!” He digs his nails into Kelly’s shoulders, hips stuttering.

“Mmm, yeah, fuck.” Kelly moves the finger in further, and Tom throws his head back with a gasp.

“Oh, good boy, good boy,” murmurs Schofield. “You can take it, you can take it.”

Tom’s vision tunnels at the pressure of a second finger, mind going blank as his body stretches impossibly wider. 

“Breathe,” whispers Schofield. “Breathe, so you can take Kelly’s fingers.”

Tom nods, inhaling deep and shaky, as Schofield strokes his cock just right. Kelly’s eyes burn with arousal as his hole opens for his fingers, two, then three, slotting perfectly next to Schofield’s thick cock.

“Such a good slut,” says Kelly as he thrusts his fingers up, pushing impossibly deeper. “You’re ready for me now, aren’t you?”

“Oh, God,” groans Tom, his own voice foreign to his ears. He lets his head loll against the slope of Schofield’s shoulder as Kelly slowly withdraws his fingers, inches forward, and--

Schofield’s paused the rocking of his hips to suck harsh kisses up Tom’s neck, hands anchoring his thighs wide. Tom’s pulse throbs in his neck and his open hips as he watches all the muscles in Kelly’s abdomen ripple as he lines himself up against Schofield. Clenching his jaw, he hooks one elbow beneath Tom’s knee, leveraging Tom’s weight against Schofield, and teases the head of his prick against Tom’s soft, stretched opening.

 _Oh fuck._

It’s so much, too much, it will _never_ work--but Tom leans against Schofield and tries to relax, legs held apart by four strong hands and arms, helpless to the onslaught of sensation, burning as he takes it. Never in his life could he have imagined the sensation of being so full, the stretch, the exquisite pain, the high-pitched, breathy whines pulled one after the other from his throat like music from a violin…

“There you are, there you are.” Schofield’s voice is strained in his ear, hips stuttering, barely moving beneath Tom as Kelly lets out feral grunts against Tom’s neck, punctuated by teeth and the inexorable press of his hips.

“Oh, fuck,” groans Tom, body simultaneously rejecting the intrusion and seeking out more, more, more. “God, you’re both--it’s so--oh, fuck, oh, fuck, it’s so much, it’s so much.”

“This is what you wanted,” hisses Kelly, conjuring a thousand stars before Tom’s eyes with a roll of his hips. “This is what you get, slut, this is what you get.”

“You like feeling both of us inside you, don’t you?” Schofield works Tom’s cock as he breathes hotly against his skin. “You take us so well, love, so well.”

Tom’s moaning incessantly now, incapable of forming coherent thoughts as he struggles to process the glorious feeling of Schofield’s fist with the two cocks inside of him, sliding against each other, stretching him out, the tenacious rub of Kelly’s prick against his sweetest spot almost too much to bear.

“He loves it.” Kelly’s hand cups his balls, rubbing lower, where their bodies are joined. “Fuck, he’s so hot, so wet, he’d let us tear him apart. Bet he’s fucking gaping, let’s have a look.”

Strong hands lift Tom until his lovers slide free. Kelly spreads him and stares appreciatively, groaning as his hole clenches around nothing. Blushing furiously, Tom mewls at the strange sensation--he’s never been so open, never felt so empty. Schofield’s fingertips circle his rim and he murmurs a curse before helping his partner lower Tom back onto them. 

“God, I love your little hole,” Schofield whispers against his neck. “Do we feel good? Do you like this?”

“Yes,” moans Tom.

“Would you let us tear you apart?” 

“Oh, fuck, yes, yes.”

“Say it again.” Schofield’s teeth sink into his shoulder.

“Tear me apart, please, please, Will, Kelly, please, wreck me, please!” Tom’s delirious with it, feeling very much like an outsider, hovering over his body, watching himself be used. He watches as Kelly shifts his hips, crying out as the new angle forces his lovers the deepest they’ve been, pleasure spiking in his veins like shattered glass. He leans into it, hips circling honey-slow as his fingernails break the skin on Kelly’s back. 

“You look so fucking pretty, all stuffed with cock,” growls Kelly in his ear. “Bet you’re about ready to come from this, aren’t you?”

“Oh, fuck.” Telltale heat floods Tom’s belly, painful and wicked and deep, hole clenching as his cock leaks in Schofield’s hand. “Oh, fuck, I don’t know, it feels so...I-I don’t know, I can’t...oh, fuck, Will, Will...”

Schofield lets out an unrepentant moan and speeds up his hand. “You’re dripping with it, you’re ready to come for us, you’re ready.”

“Your hole belongs to us. Your prick belongs to us. _You_ belong to us.” Kelly forces Tom’s mouth open, leans over, and _spits._ Schofield exhales harshly, then tips his jaw back and does the same, like some kind of sick, twisted, incredibly sexy display of dominance. “Swallow, there you are, good slut. You’re gonna come whether you’re ready or not.”

Tom whimpers at the threat, already feeling himself spiraling towards oblivion. He can’t imagine anything more intense than this: thighs shaking, abdomen quivering, dripping sweat, tasting and swallowing the saliva of the two men ravaging him, stretching his body to its limit. 

Schofield twists his hand, pulling halfway out as Kelly thrusts in, and the white-hot flames licking up Tom’s spine flare wildly. “Oh, fuck, don’t stop,” he gasps, bucking his hips feverishly. “It’s coming, it’s...fuck, I’m so close, I’m so, so fucking close.”

“Yeah, don’t fight it, that’s it, don’t fight it, slut.” Kelly plunges in slow, deep, and hard, mouth falling open in ecstasy. “Oh fuck, you feel good, Schofield, you feel so good.”

“Fuck.” Schofield _shudders_ beneath Tom. “Don’t come, Ned, don’t fucking come.” 

Kelly groans, and if Tom had the presence of mind to notice his reticence, he would have been surprised, but he can only drool on himself as he hurtles towards what promises to be the most intense orgasm of his life, inundated by the agony and the ecstasy of it all. 

Schofield’s voice is in his ear, low and harsh. “Come for us, Tom, come for _me.”_

Suspended for the barest moment between the soul-stripping climb towards bliss and the fall from its apex, Tom lets out a shuddering breath. A noise that’s somewhere between a sob and a shriek bursts forth from him as he surrenders to sensation and comes and comes and _comes._

Strained murmurs of “good boy, good slut,” find Tom’s ear as he shakes through waves and waves of a powerful orgasm, clenching around his lovers as tears wet his face and his throat grows hoarse with cries. 

“You did so well, love.” Schofield’s voice is soft and lovely as he gently maneuvers Tom off of his lap, moving aside so Tom can rest his back against the sweat-soaked pillow. He brushes an errant curl from Tom’s damp forehead and gives him a kiss. Tom clings to him, pushing his tongue into Schofield’s mouth, overcome with love for this man who never ceases to surprise him. Kelly lets out a derisive laugh, earning him a sharp look from Schofield. “Why don’t you catch your breath for a moment while I teach our rude friend here some manners.” 

Tom nods sluggishly, too sex-drunk to fully process what his lover has said until Schofield tackles Kelly to the bed, pinning him down onto his back. Kelly licks his lips and struggles, only a little--Tom suspects it’s for show— eyes ablaze as Schofield forces his legs apart with his knees and wraps a hand around his throat. “You never knew when to shut up, did you, Neddy? Shut up, now, shut your fucking mouth.”

Kelly cranes his neck as much as he can under Schofield’s palm. “Make me.”

“You’re gonna regret that.” The presence of a long-dormant demon flares to life in Schofield’s eyes and he spins around, nostrils flaring at the sight of something on the bedside table. “Tom, love, hand me that knife, will you?”

Swallowing, Tom leans over, wincing at the ache in his backside, and grabs a brutal blade from the messy table. He hands it to Schofield in a daze, who snatches it from his hand and presses it to Kelly’s inner thigh.

With a vocal exhale, Kelly arches his back and reaches between his legs. Schofield slaps his hand away only to replace it with his own. “You are not to touch this,” he snarls, pressing the sharp knife edge harder into milky white flesh. “Only I can touch this. Understood?”

Every muscle tightens in Kelly’s lean body as he stares up at Schofield, challenging, but that challenge quickly turns into a sharp inhale as Schofield’s wrist flicks, just slightly, pressing the edge harder into his thigh. _”Understood?”_

“Yes,” hisses Kelly through his teeth.

Tom’s mouth falls open, blood buzzing with renewed arousal that’s far too strong for someone who’s just had two orgasms. He presses his hand against his limp prick and bites his lip, eyes widening at the sight of Schofield coating his fingers in Vaseline.

“You are not in control.” White teeth glint as Schofield trails the knife up Kelly’s thigh, over his groin, eliciting a sharp gasp with a press of the flat edge against his erection before holding it to his quivering stomach. Kelly’s breaths are laboured, eyes hooded as he watches Schofield reach his slick hand between his thighs. 

“This is what you wanted all along,” murmurs Schofield, bicep tightening visibly as he propels his arm forward. Kelly lets out an ecstatic breath, every muscle in his body contracting, legs falling further apart. Tom’s open, empty hole aches at the sight of his lover’s arm working mercilessly, making Kelly writhe with each strike of his talented fingers. 

“This is what you were craving, wasn’t it?” Schofield applies more pressure to the knife and Kelly lets out a small cry as a bloom of red appears on his stomach. “All that talk, all that fucking bravado, when all you needed was someone to put you in your place.”

Tom can’t believe the words coming from Schofield’s mouth. More shocking still is Kelly’s enthusiastic compliance as he lies there, legs spread, cock all hard and sticky as he takes what Schofield gives him. It’s entrancing, that hard body glistening with sweat, pliant under Schofield’s blade and his fingers, that foul, harsh mouth reduced to soft noises of pleasure.

Schofield fingerfucks Kelly until he’s arching against the bed with long undulations of his spine, availing his body to Schofield. “Come on,” he pants. “Come on, Schofield, just fuck me, just fuck me.”

“You are not in control.” Schofield’s voice brooks no argument, though the severity of his tone does little to mask his arousal. Tom’s eyes travel down--fuck, they’re both so hard, and so wet, and Tom’s mouth floods with saliva and the memory of their tastes. 

Kelly rolls his body with a little whine and props himself up on his elbows, eyes flickering between where he’s being fingered and Schofield’s face. “Fuck, that’s fucking hot, Schofield. Come on, fuck me, you know you want to be inside me.”

“Shut up.” With a glare that could wither flowers, Schofield pulls his hand free and greases up his cock. Tom’s breath quickens as he pushes strong thighs wide and rams his length into Kelly in one brutal stroke. 

“Yes,” whispers Kelly, falling onto his back, eyes closing. “Fuck, I missed this, fuck, yes.”

 _”Shut up.”_ Schofield’s hand cracks across Kelly’s face before closing around his throat. He hunches over him. “Of course you fucking missed me, no one can fuck you like I fuck you, no one can give you what you need.”

Kelly’s mouth forms a little o and his brows knit together, too-long hair matted to his forehead with sweat. Filth continues to spill from Schofield’s mouth as his hips move faster, plunging deeper, eyes flashing dangerously. He releases the hand around Kelly’s neck only to replace it with the knife, pressing just enough, coaxing a long moan from Kelly’s throat. 

“Oh, God.” Tom squeezes himself, now fully disabused of the notion that he was spent. 

“Is he getting hard again?” Kelly somehow manages to look smug despite being split open on Schofield’s massive cock at knifepoint. “Fuck, he’s getting hard again, little slut.”

Schofield’s eyes flicker to him. “You like watching this, love? You like how I fuck him, hard and mean?”

“Yeah.”

“You want me to fuck you like I fuck him? You want me to treat you like Neddy next time?”

Tom’s stomach drops. “Yes.” 

“Spread your legs and show me just how much.”

Immediately, Tom parts his thighs and takes himself in his hand. 

“Now spread your arse, show me your hole.”

 _Oh._ Face burning, Tom scoots forward and lifts his knee, sighing at the sensation of exposing himself where he’s red and sore. 

With a groan of pleasure, Schofield’s hips stutter, gaze transfixed between Tom’s legs. “Good boy, touch yourself.”

“Slut,” rasps Kelly, snapping Schofield’s attention back to him.

“Don’t remember asking your fucking opinion on the matter.” Schofield presses the knife against his throat. “Just shut up and get fucked. _Slut.”_

Ooh, Kelly likes that--he bites his lip and reaches for his neglected prick, only to be intercepted by Schofield, who flings his hand up overhead. “Ah, ah, ah. Grab onto the blanket, and don’t fucking let go unless I say you can.”

A lone bead of sweat drips from Kelly’s temple as he does as he’s told with a groan of pleasure as his prick slaps wetly against his stomach. He’s losing it, he’s going to come, and Tom can’t help but run a fingertip over his rim, shivering at the vivid memory of being full of Kelly, full of Schofield, full of the both of them, wishing that they’d both come inside of him. 

Schofield’s grunting like an animal, hips snapping forward in a punishing pace, and Tom tugs on himself as he watches his lover slowly break apart. 

“Touch me,” gasps Kelly, knuckles turning white. “Touch me, Schofield I’m gonna come, make me come.”

Schofield drops Kelly’s thigh and wraps his hand around him. “You’re such a slut, Ned, I’ve barely been inside you for five minutes and you’re already coming.”

“Fuck you,” groans Kelly, eyes burning into Schofield’s face. “Fuck, fuck, fuck me harder.”

“Such a shit talker, such a rude mouth. Big bad Lieutenant Kelly, getting off on your rank and your power, acting so tough, when all you want is my big cock up your tight little arse, yeah? That’s what you want, isn’t it.”

“Fuck you, ah, fuck you.”

“Tell me it’s what you want, or I’ll stop.”

Kelly moans like a whore at that, bucking against Schofield, narrowing his eyes. “Yes, Schofield, you bastard, fuck--”

_”Say it.”_

“I want your big cock inside of me, it’s all I want, fuck, fuck me harder, harder, you fucking bastard, it’s all I want, yes--”

“That’s it, that’s right, _Lieutenant,”_ whispers Schofield raggedly, unrelenting in his deep, hard thrusts, running the blade down to Kelly’s collarbones before returning it to the delicate flesh of his throat. “If you come, I’ll slit your throat, I’ll slit your fucking throat.”

Kelly’s eyes squeeze shut and his mouth goes slack, face open and vulnerable as Schofield watches him. It’s terribly intimate, and Tom wonders for a crazed half-second if he should look away, but the feeling is quickly replaced by a deep warmth in his gut as Kelly’s spine goes rigid and he comes with a long, wild cry, spurting hot and sticky all over his taut abdomen.

When he’s finished, Schofield rapidly pulls out, drops the knife, and crawls on top of him, straddling his chest as he furiously tugs on himself. Kelly’s panting, struggling to regain control of his breathing, but he manages to look up at Schofield and lick his lips. “Come on, Schofield, fucking _defile_ me.”

“Open your fucking mouth,” growls Schofield, bracing himself on the bed with one arm while his hand flies over his prick, teeth bared, red in the face, shining with perspiration.

Kelly’s lips part almost reverently and he sticks out his tongue, and a moment later, Schofield groans, throws his head back, and splatters Kelly’s face and tongue with thick white fluid. 

Kelly hums in approval, face dripping with come, licking his lips. Schofield rolls off of him, panting. Tom seizes the opportunity to crawl over to him, now so hard he’s nearly shaking with it.

“That was…” Tom’s eyes move wildly between Schofield and Kelly. “I’m definitely ready for more now.”

Schofield looks at his prick and lets out a tired chuckle. “So I see. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll take care of that for you, love.” 

With a snort, Kelly props himself up on his elbow and beckons to Tom. “Why don’t you come here and lick up all this spunk with that talented tongue of yours, hmm? Then we’ll see who needs a few minutes.”

Kelly hasn’t even finished his sentence before Tom climbs over Schofield and settles into his gooey lap. With a wink at Schofield, Tom sticks out his tongue and licks a long stripe up Kelly’s face, shuddering at the taste of his lover’s release on his sweat-salty skin, all too eager to submit.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally could not live my life until I wrote this, so here it is. Ta da! 
> 
> If you enjoyed reading this feral, horny festival of self indulgent fuckery, please toss a comment to your poor wayfaring smut dealer and feed my starving demon soul.


End file.
